


Cooked Cheeks

by bloomblood



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Belts, Daddy Kink, Dom Tony Stark, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, POV Tony Stark, Punishment, Sub Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-06-28 04:30:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19804795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloomblood/pseuds/bloomblood
Summary: Daddy Dom Tony punishes Peter during after-school chores.





	Cooked Cheeks

**Author's Note:**

> _This fic has been backdated to match its original publication date[on tumblr](https://bloomblood.tumblr.com/post/185229941310/cooked-cheeks)._

May greets Tony with an unsubstantial, sympathetic smile. He nods to her as he passes—“May.”—polite but brief in dealings with her in her home.

Peter is washing dishes when Tony finds him. The kitchen is spiced with garlic, likely from their dinner, which Tony is glad is over now that he’s here. Peter shakes out his hands at the sink before turning to snatch up a towel. He steps to meet Tony as Tony fills the doorway.

“Hi, Daddy….”

Tony’s arms edge up the sides of the doorjamb. He sniffs. “You do know why I’m here. Right?”

They meet eyes. Peter shifts where he stands. He nods.

“Why does Daddy have to come here to punish you because you don’t know how to behave in school?”

“But Flash—”

“Stop.”

Peter’s shoulders drop—and his head.

“Try again.”

“He—”

Tony loosens his tie and shrugs off his jacket.

Peter’s breath catches, and he backs away, eyes large with concern. Tony follows him. He catches Peter by the back of his neck and easily draws him into his space. Socked toes bump his new Burberry sneakers. He rubs his nose against Peter’s, neglecting his lips.

“Daddy doesn’t like when you fuck up in school.”

“I know.” Peter’s tone is hot with nascent tears. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have hit him.”

“No. You shouldn’t have gotten _caught_. But you did, didn’t you? And May had to call Daddy, didn’t she?”

Peter nods as much as Tony’s grip allows. “Yes, Sir.”

“I know it’s not fair that you have these powers and you have to hide them, even when some lesser prick _bullies_ you, but that’s the price. Can you afford to get expelled your last year? Hm?” He grabs Peter’s jaw, tilting his head. “Then what? Daddy has to buy you back in, right? Say yes.”

_“Yes.”_

“Because we _both know_ that’s how it’d fucking be.” He releases Peter’s face and jerks his head toward the dishes. “Finish your chores,” he says. He opens his belt.

Peter mopes to the sink. He dithers, flexing his hands before dunking them in.

“And you’re gonna be so quiet, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good boy. Stick it out.”

Backing his feet from the counter, Peter presents his small, round ass. Tony drags the leather from its straps and folds it over, reaching to tug down Peter’s gym shorts.

“I’ll give you five,” Tony says, “since half of this is on him.”

The belt tears through room and lands with a _whack_.

Peter catches the cry thick and sharp at the back of his throat, slapping his hands—freckled with suds—to his mouth.

“You want more?” Tony asks.

“No, S-Sir.”

“Then wash. There’d better not be”—the belt cracks down again—“a fucking speck of food on one of those plates.”

Peter blurts out a cry, springing up on his toes as he scrambles around in the sink for something, anything, to clean. The faucet runs. A rinsed fork is dropped into the dishrack.

“See what you’re making me do? Leaving welts on my boy?”

Peter’s nod is frenetic.

“Making my boy cry? So his _aunt_ can hear it?”

Tony gets to _five_ when Peter grips the edge of the counter. His _boy_ is unsuccessfully keeping quiet.

He tosses the belt. It hits the kitchen floor with an angry scrape, crashing against the foot of a dining chair.

“I know,” he says in Peter’s hair when he comes to press behind him. “Okay. Daddy’s done. Daddy’s done.”

“I’m s-sor-sorry.”

“I know, baby. But I gotta punish you. How will you learn to be good for Daddy, hm?” Tony asks, lips at Peter’s ear, his voice very soft. He croons when Peter’s cooked cheeks slide against his pants, causing Peter to jerk away with a whine.

Between them, Tony tugs Peter’s shorts up to his waist. He kisses Peter’s nape before turning away.

“Come to your room when you’re finished,” Tony rasps. “We’re not done.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [There's My Boy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20535434) by [Valiant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valiant/pseuds/Valiant)




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